These are poems about Palestinian children and their mothers...

Epitaph for a Palestinian Child
by Michael R. Burch

I lived as best I could, and then I died.
Be careful where you step: the grave is wide.



Epitaph for a Palestinian Girl
by Michael R. Burch

Find in her pallid, dread repose,
no hope, alas!, for a human Rose.



who, US?
by Michael R. Burch

jesus was born
a palestinian child
where there’s no Room
for the meek and the mild

… and in bethlehem still
to this day, lambs are born
to cries of “no Room!”
and Puritanical scorn …

under Herod, Trump, Bibi
their fates are the same—
the slouching Beast mauls them
and WE have no shame:

“who’s to blame?”



Frail Envelope of Flesh
by Michael R. Burch

for the mothers and children of Gaza

Frail envelope of flesh,
lying cold on the surgeon’s table
with anguished eyes
like your mother’s eyes
and a heartbeat weak, unstable …

Frail crucible of dust,
brief flower come to this—
your tiny hand
in your mother’s hand
for a last bewildered kiss …

Brief mayfly of a child,
to live two artless years!
Now your mother’s lips
seal up your lips
from the Deluge of her tears …



For a Palestinian Child, with Butterflies
by Michael R. Burch

Where does the butterfly go ...
when lightning rails ...
when thunder howls ...
when hailstones scream ...
when winter scowls ...
when nights compound dark frosts with snow ...
where does the butterfly go?

Where does the rose hide its bloom
when night descends oblique and chill,
beyond the capacity of moonlight to fill?
When the only relief’s a banked fire’s glow,
where does the butterfly go?

And where shall the spirit flee
when life is harsh, too harsh to face,
and hope is lost without a trace?
Oh, when the light of life runs low,
where does the butterfly go?



Night Labor
by Michael R. Burch

for Rachel Corrie

Tonight we keep the flame alive;
we keep the candle lit.
We burn bright incense in your name
and swear we’ll not forget—
your innocence, your courage,
your commitment—till bleak night
surrenders to irrevocable dawn
and hate yields to love’s light.

Amen.



Well, Almost
by Michael R. Burch

Jews and Christians say “Never again!”
to the inhumanity of men
(except when the object of phlegm
is a Palestinian).



I, too, have a dream …
by the Child Poets of Gaza (a pseudonym of Michael R. Burch)

I, too, have a dream …
that one day Jews and Christians
will see me as I am:
a small child, lonely and afraid,
staring down the barrels of their big bazookas,
knowing I did nothing
to deserve such scorn.



Such Tenderness
by Michael R. Burch

for the mothers of Gaza

There was, in your touch, such tenderness—as
only the dove on her mildest day has,
when she shelters downed fledglings beneath a warm wing
and coos to them softly, unable to sing.

What songs long forgotten occur to you now—
a babe at each breast? What terrible vow
ripped from your throat like the thunder that day
can never hold severing lightnings at bay?

Time taught you tenderness—time, oh, and love.
But love in the end is seldom enough …
and time?—insufficient to life’s brief task.
I can only admire, unable to ask—

what is the source, whence comes the desire
of a woman to love as no God may require?



Suffer the Little Children
by Nakba, an alias of Michael R. Burch

for the children of Gaza

I saw the carnage ... saw girl’s dreaming heads
blown to red atoms, and their dreams with them ...

saw babies liquefied in burning beds
as, horrified, I heard their murderers’ phlegm ...

I saw my mother stitch my shroud’s black hem,
for in that moment I was once of them ...

I saw our Father’s eyes grow hard and bleak
to see his roses severed at the stem.

How could I fail to speak?



Starting from Scratch with Ol’ Scratch
by Michael R. Burch

for the Religious Right

Love, with a small, fatalistic sigh
went to the ovens. Please don’t bother to cry.
You could have saved her, but you were all *******
complaining about the Jews to Reichmeister Grupp.

Scratch that. You were born after World War II.
You had something more important to do:
while the children of the Nakba were perishing in Gaza
with the complicity of your government, you had a noble cause (a
religious tract against homosexual marriage
and various things gods and evangelists disparage.)

Jesus will grok you? Ah, yes, I’m quite sure!
Your intentions were noble and ineluctably pure.
And what the hell does THE LORD care about Palestinians?
Certainly, Christians were right about serfs, slaves and Indians.
Scratch that. You’re one of the Devil’s minions.



King of the World
by the Child Poets of Gaza, an alias of Michael R. Burch

If I were King of the World, I would make
every child free, for my people’s sake.

And once I had freed them, they’d all run and scream
back to my palace, for free ice cream!

Why are you laughing? Can’t a young king dream?

If I were King of the World, I would banish
hatred and war, and make mean men vanish.

Then, in their place, I’d bring in a circus
with lions and tigers (but they’d never hurt us!)

Why are you laughing? What else is a king’s purpose?

If I were King of the World, I would teach
the preachers to always do as they preach;

and so they could practice being of good cheer,
we’d have Christmas —and presents—every day of the year!

Why are you laughing? Some dreams do appear!

If I were King of the World, I would send
my counselors of peace to the wide world’s end …

But all this hard dreaming is making me thirsty!
I proclaim Pink Lemonade; please bring it in a hurry!

Why are you laughing? Mom’ll make it in a flurry!

If I were King of the World, I’d declare
a year of happiness, with no despair—

only playing allowed, for my joyful subjects!
Not a toy left behind! Repair all rejects!

Why are you laughing? Surely no one objects!

If I were King of the World, I would fire
racists and bigots, with their message so dire.

And we wouldn’t build walls, to shut people out.
I would build amusement parks, have no doubt!

Why are you laughing? Should I use my clout?

If I were King of the World, I would drive
a red Ferrari, like no man alive!

But behind would be busses for my legions of friends:
we’d party like maniacs; the fun never ends!

Why are you laughing? Hop aboard! Let’s be friends!

If I were King of the World, I would make
every child blessed, for my people’s sake,

and every child safe, and every child free,
and every child happy, especially me!

Why are you laughing? Appoint me and see!

Keywords/Tag: Palestinian, child, Palestine, Gaza, children, mothers, death, grave, Israel, USA

Theres a genocide going on in 4K
And the world's acting like its okay
And I wonder who's more pathetic
The antagonist or the apatethic

That we shouldnt **** children is not really that complex
Unless you are from the military industrial complex
And you do not need to know the history of a millennium
To know its wrong to displace millions
And carpet bomb civilians

And humanity is not political
Unless you are a politician
And peace is not controversial
Unless you are hell bound on controverting
Well,you are hell bound anyway

The placards and slogans are up again
Its better than nothing,even if it doesnt bring any change
You wanna feel like you've done something
Even if its meaningless in greater scheme of things

In a world where everything little thing is trauma
The genocide becomes a newsroom drama
As they make you believe they are others
And convince you its fine to **** your brothers
And you get convinced in a day

However much we can scream
Continues the killing spree
From the river to the sea
Only hatred seems to be free

So theres a genocide going on in 4K
And it will never be okay
However much they try to erase the voices
And cover it up in chemical warplane noises

And if you wondering which side you should be on
If its the one killing children,its probably wrong
Dumbf*ck

Is it cruel to silence a pregnant woman with a dozer
Sold their souls to a war criminal's thirst
Rationalizing every lies with more of them, so kosher
Ask the children died of starvation and thirst
Ever felt threatened by the fire they spit
Lessons never learned, or was it a skit

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

                                       To Accept Israel

                    “Israel was not created in order to disappear - Israel will
                    endure and flourish. It is the child of hope and the home
                    of the brave. It carries the shield of democracy and it
                    honors the sword of freedom.”

                               – President John F. Kennedy)

To deny Israel is to curse ourselves
For we are inheritors of the Covenant
That He should be our God, and we His people
He creates us, He calls us – this is so

He has given us prophecy and law
Cattle in the fields, fish in all the seas
And lovers, flowers, sunsets, songs, salvation
The Great Dance of Creation - and Himself

Let not the sinister whisperer divide us!
To accept Israel is to accept - everyone

Killed, have you, thousands of innocents
Truly, are you Satan's agents
Destroying an entire nation
In the name of counter-terrorism
Completely abandoning rationalism
And carrying out mass slaughter, with chilling precision

You call yourself a democracy
Yet, you show absolutely no mercy
Even when it cometh to children
Your humanity is absolutely barren
When we call you out
"Anti-Semitic", do you brand us, without a second thought
Jesus tells us to love even our enemies
However, your sheer hatred never does cease

You pretend to be the victim
However, filled to the brim
Is your cup of everlasting greed
As you continue to occupy land after land
And never allow the world to take a stand
Even as there are millions to feed
While the genocide reaches a fever pitch
Because, always functions, does your killing machine, without a hitch

You are so evil
That you **** and ****
Without giving a dime about incurring the wrath of God
Over goodness, do you run roughshod

You think you own Palestine
However, enough have we seen
And enough have we had
The world is mad
Soon, will you pay the price
For your insatiable avarice
Your days are numbered
Soon, will the tide be turned

You may continue your state terrorism
Which you call "counter-terrorism"
However, it is only a matter of time
Before there is divine retribution
For the numerous crimes of your so-called democratic nation
Viva Palestina!!
Amen!! Hallelujah!!

Long live Palestine survivors.
From the river to the sea
Palestine is surely free.
The whole world chants a plee
World's children boycott free
Israelites now earn
their own huge star cause and effect of defeat.

We don't support genocide.
We detest concentration camps
that Gaza people in Palestine endure by ex extermination camps. Israelite's genocide
agendas now end.

I see red! Genocidalg Israelites
blasting new born babes up
Moms and Dads.
~~~~~~

REPOST:

I SEE RED: (!We all see red )

1SRAEL your STAR now stinks,
With your billion grave stench
in shreds
digging your own genocidal exile
to your poverty ridden Abyss.

The whole world opposes
Your baby daily
genocidal scoring chants.

To h**you  many other
hidden agendas.
~~~~
Israel all the planet vote
To give full immediate payable
restitution to palestine..
~~~~~

REPOST: SONG LYRICS.

SEE RED.

"Did you really think,
I'd just forgive and forget,
NO!
After catching you with her,
Your blood should run cold, so cold

You, you two-timing,
cheap-lying, wannabe
You're a fool,
if you thought that I'd just let this go
I see red, red, oh red

A gun to your head, to all your heads.
Now all I see is red, red, red
Did you really just say,
she didn't mean anything, oh
I'll remember those words,
when I come for your soul, your souls
Know that you,
you dug your own grave,
now lie in it forgotten broke and alone.
You're so cruel,
but revenge is a dish best served cold
I see red, red, oh red

A gun to your head, to your heads.
Oh! Executioner style,
and there won't be no trial
Don't you know that you're better off dead
All I see is red, red, oh red

Now all I see is RED
Run, hide
Oh, you're so done, gone.
Oh, better sleep
with one eye open tonight

I see red, red, oh red, oh
A gun to your head, heads.
Executioner style,
and there won't be no trial
Don't you know,
you're better off dead

All I see is red, red, oh red
Now all I see is red, red.
Read between
this lines, Israel.

Death to genocidal agendas
self proclaimed saints
Israelites

The chosen ones
are our Palestines
Along with all of us.
Requesting justice.
~~~

All I can see
is a wasteland of
stone, glass, metal,
and wooden rubble
in an open air prison
where children are living.

Six thousand bombs,
stirring up
thick clouds of grey dust,
obscuring the horrors
people are enduring.

The attackers are
barely even
warning people
to move on.
The exits are blocked.
The power and water is off.
The suffering doesn’t stop,
and these civilians
are unable to leave.

How are you unable to see
the hell spring of grief
that is burning human beings,
the furnace that still cooks
even when no one bothers to look
because all of the crooks
were just waiting
for the perfect excuse
to make the news
with a justified genocide.

Mass ****** and more oppression
with the weapons
America supplied,
and guess what,
another child just died,
more parents got radicalized,
and if they survive
will you be surprised
if hate is the new demoncont.
that wears their tired red eyes.

The rich guys lied and decided
that unequal retaliation
is perfectly justified,
so we are on a road
to the extinction of
human decency
as the world murders
our collective humanity.

Crack, boom,
the sound of thunder blooms
orange heated chaos,
breaking the foundation
an entire building.

A whole family line
gets an early burial,
as what’s left of my heart
gets carried inside,
popped in a box
to be buried alive,
because their beat
was the same as mine.

Nothing I write
will change the minds
of those unwilling to
listen and see people who
are close to total annihilation,
as deserving of love,
and compassion,
but even so
I am still asking.

Help, please, help!?!


Instead we get beheadings,
mass shootings,
****** assault,
retaliation,
and the expectation
of more tragedy to come.

I can easily condemn
violent actions taken,
but I need to understand
the origins of this rocky foundation,
and potential solutions,
because I can’t stand the
horrors I am facing
without eventually breaking.

Why this never ending hate
Where impressionable young men swallow jaundiced bait,
To **** and maim - all in the name of their one prophet,
Unleashing burning mayhem with rocket after rocket.

Has discourse and humanity disintegrated to this point,
Where the only leaders they invariably anoint
Preach such hatred and revenge,
With glaring eyes and fingers tightly clenched.

Generations go to die leaving mother's sadly wailing,
The guns they hold no longer just for playing,
A dream of glory as yet another blessed martyr,
The sad byproduct of this never-ending intifada.

Were only calmer minds at play,
Leaders who knew the words they had to say,
To avert such bloodshed that's never a solution,
The only outcome despair and persecution.

Violence is a twin, a spawn of the same seed,
Destruction not discourse it's destiny to lead,
Strength is shown by character, tenacity and grit,
Mandela proved the adage to never ever quit.

Jews and Palestinians cousins by another name
So very different and yet so very much the same,
Two thousands years of sharing this small land,
A differing religion but surely the same band.

Enough this constant slaughter tearing families apart,
Let wiser minds prevail in making a new start,
Nothing is impossible when truth and will combine,
A path to coexistence is what each must define.

Will it be easy no, but clearly it's a must,
It starts with creating empathy and a modicum of trust,
The alternative unthinkable, impossible to bear,
As misery and death the only certainty they'll share.

“So there stood Matthew Arnold and this girl
With the cliffs of England crumbling away behind them,
And he said to her, "Try to be true to me,
And I'll do the same for you, for things are bad
All over, etc. etc." - Anthony Hecht

All I have ever been,
Is a girl
With the heart of a flower
Red in the hurricane winds
Red through the dust
That disguises the slaughter.

I can still see the bodies,
Red on the broken streets,
Red on the surface of the sea
Red on the plains that are rapidly darkling

And the ignorance is markedly
Growing.

The children bleed out in Aleppo,
in Gaza, Darfur, Yemen, Caracas, more;
Tiny bodies pressed between bricks
Like little flowers crushed in hard bindings,
Or innocence impaled on the blades of
Savagery and shame,

Like so many
Crucified prophets.

The puppeteers of these armies are

Irrevocably  

*******

Heartless;

Yet, let the wildflowers bloom
Reclaim the humanity that is ours to
Own. I command my heart to open like a sunflower to the moon.

We can’t ever give up.
We must keep standing
For all who are falling, kicked down the cliffs on bleeding knees,
Crawling.

Dig into the dust;
Plant a flowering heart in these arid crossings:

Grow here

Bright fields of compassion.

Let them bloom red,
Like our open hearts
Beating for our sons and daughters.

The Paragliders like ravenous vultures flew
to southern Israel to predate on soft targets.
Like swarms of bees, they snuck, *****, maimed, shot, burnt and slew.
Terror did every man's fragile conscience becloud.
Hate made their embittered hearts to mercy forget.
Abductions followed, having to terror avowed.

Then came the IDF's genocidal intent,
having intended global laws to circumvent;
Children, women, all consumed by mighty vengeance.
A disproportionate response beyond balance.
Homes, hospitals, Mosques, Churches and schools are levelled,
as Gaza is by torrents of bombs bedeviled.
I do not with a livid Israel sympathize,
nor do I with a besieged Gaza empathize.
With humanity I have my affinity,
for my deep love for it, tends to infinity.